Eat, Drink, Steal
by Daxxers
Summary: This is a work of fan fiction set in the Forgotten Realms (as envisioned by various authors and WOTC). It follows the adventures of the young Elf Rogue, Daelynn, and takes place shortly after the events in the story "Good Luck, You'll Need It". It has not been Beta-read. Constructive criticism is welcome.
1. Chapter 1

**Eat, Drink, Steal**

 _(Dear Reader – this is a work of fan fiction set in the Forgotten Realms (as envisioned by various authors and WOTC), somewhere in Faerun, circa 1370 DR. It is set in a large, human-dominated city called Capitol and follows the adventures of the young Elf Rogue, Daelynn, and takes place shortly after the events in the story "Good Luck, You'll Need It". It has not been Beta-read. Hope you enjoy it. Constructive criticism is welcome.)_

 **Chapter 1 – A Dinner Date**

She was being followed. From the corner of her eye Daelynn had spied the cloaked figure as it flitted across the street behind her. The day was ending in Old Town and she was heading home, taking a circuitous route, checking to make certain that she had not attracted unwanted attention. That's when she noticed her shadow.

Daelynn turned down the next alley and headed west toward the Temple Quarter. There was a gap in the stone and wood buildings further up the alley. She'd lie in wait there and see who was so interested in her.

After a few dozen breaths, there was still no sign of her follower. The elf drew out a small pocket mirror and used it to peer down the alley without having to move out of concealment. Nothing. Daelynn adjusted her position and looked up the alley in the direction she had been traveling. There - movement in the shadows. How had he got ahead of her so quickly? Perhaps there were two of them? She checked behind her again. Still nothing.

Loosening her dagger in its sheath, she drew a throwing star out of her belt and stepped into the lane, making her way west. Daelynn had almost cleared the alley when she sensed a presence in the shadows to her left. Without breaking pace, she shifted her body and released the shuriken. She knew she had missed upon hearing the dull sound of it biting into wood and not flesh.

A voice, male, with a sing-song cadence, spoke from the dark. "If ye intended to come that close to ma nose on p'rpose, then I'm impressed lass. But I'm thinkin' instead ye missed."

The shadows moved, rippling an flowing to one side to reveal a tall, older man dressed in a grey cloak much like her own. In his left hand he held her star, in his right, a small piece of parchment.

"Yer wonderin' why I've been following ye this last day? Well, tis been two days. Oh, I see by yer eyes ye did not notice me yest'rday? Well na worries girl. I mean ye na harm. I've a job off'r. This tis na place ta discuss business. Here." He slowly stepped forward and handed the parchment to the elf. Daelynn kept one hand on her dagger as she accepted the scrap.

"Tamarra night. Eight a'clock. Dinn'r. Dress for a soirée. Ye can have yer toy back if ye turn up."

With those words the man stepped back into the shadows, disappearing from Daelynn's sight, taking her throwing star with him. He had utterly vanished.

She exited the alley. The end-of-day light was dimming but her keen elven eyes made out the address written on the parchment. At least dinner was going to be in a nice part of town. But more importantly, what was she going to wear? 

* * *

The address given to her by the grey man was in a fine part of the city. It was about middle of the hill. So not nobility; they had homes and estates on the hilltop. Middle hill was for titled persons and wealthy merchants. Lower hill had exclusive markets, shops and, it was rumored, excellent gaming houses and reputable brothels. It had taken her most of the next day to scout out the location, familiarize herself with the neighborhood and learn who resided there. She then raced back to her more modest neighborhood, changed and arranged a carriage, arriving at her host's promptly at eight.

Daelynn was greeted at the door by the man himself. The house was an old two story stone building, ivy covered with beautiful, large glazed windows and a well-appointed interior. The elf was escorted to a small, comfortable dining room where a light but appealing looking supper had been laid out. She removed her wrap, a shimmering piece of red fabric, handing it to him. Her gown was tight at the top, loose and flowing from the waist down, as was the fashion this season at court. The sapphire blue of the gown accentuated her icy blue skin. She wore her dark hair up in a simple yet becoming coif that covered her elven ears. As he took her wrap he gave her an appreciative, approving, and at the same time, respectful, glance. She wondered how long it took men to learn how to do that. The younger men in her circle still had trouble with the latter two parts.

Placing her wrap on a nearby settee he stood by his chair. As was the custom in Capitol at a formal dinner host and guest bowed to each other before taking their seats. A light red wine had already been poured into glasses. He raised his and toasted the king's health. She raised hers and responded in like fashion, asking a blessing on their queen. Formalities having been observed, the grey man spoke.

"I'm glad ye came and I hope my off'r will be of int'rest to ye," he said, in his lilting voice.

"An opportunity for employment is always welcome. What is it that I could do for you, Sir Roland?"

He smiled at the use of his name. "Ah, na bad. Ye had less than a day to ferret that out. And I have na doubt ye have a good idea of the layout of this place already?"

Daelynn smiled back at the elderly gentleman. "Only a general sense. Your neighbors, merchants and vendors are a closed mouth lot in these parts."

"Oh, that they be. If they talked too much about their custom'rs, then business could dry up. So, their taciturn'ty it is more from self-intr'st than respect, Lady C'orillae."

Daelynn had been sipping on her wine when he spoke and almost choked on it when he used her titled name. Quickly recovering she tried and failed to hide her surprise. How long had he been following her? Investigating her? She placed the glass back down on the table, dabbed her mouth with her napkin and returned her left hand to her lap. She hoped the movement of the right hand playing with the glass distracted him as she slowly reached within her silk gown for her dagger.

"Have na worries lass. I doubt very much that anoth'r soul in Capitol knows that the Lady Daelynn C'orillae, Honorary Lady-in-Waiting to our beloved Queen, and who studies at the College of Her'ldry, is the same Daelynn who haunts Old Town and is also… what? Thief? Rogue? Kicker of mugger's and pick-pocket's arses?"

Daelynn relaxed slightly. Her name and title were not a secret but she preferred to keep her evening activities separate from her public life. The title was honorary, an award bestowed on her family for their service to the crown. However, she had no desire to bring any hint of impropriety to her family or her Queen; and some of her recent activities outside her school were not those expected of titled young women.

"What is the job, and why me?" she asked.

"I work for a r'spectable client who, on occasion, requests that c'rtain items be obtained or disposed. Also, inf'rmation of a sensitive nature may need to be deliv'rd – or made to disappear. The lawfulness of some these tasks is debatable. Intr'sted?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – The Party**

She'd said yes. Which is how Daelynn found herself dangling from the side of a building in the rain. The fine mist that had cloaked Capitol in the evening had become a light but steady drizzle. It would not be long before her gown was soaked, her body frozen and her fingers forced to let go of the window's stone ledge. When she slipped, the fall would be about sixty feet. Crashing to her death on stony ground was not the way she thought her evening was going to end when she had departed for dinner. At least her last meal had been a good one.

Would that damn maidservant never leave the room? As if wishing made it so, the light from the window above her dimmed then went out. Ugh, finally! Daelynn hauled herself onto the stone sill and pushed at the shutter she had closed when she had fled to the ledge. Udún! The faithful servant had locked them! She managed to draw her blade without upsetting her balance and sending herself to the ground. It took only a moment to slide the fine, sturdy steel between the shutters and force the latch open. She dragged herself over the sill and inside the warm, silent, dark room. A tug and a tearing sound alerted her to the fact that her gown had caught on the rough stone of the building exterior.

Sighing heavily the young woman dragged the gown inside and closed the window. Her elven eyes easily made out the features of the room even in the near total darkness. She went to the lamp at the desk, used the strike-box that lay beside it, and soon had enough light to carry out an inspection of the damage. Not too bad. She quickly tied off the torn ends, tucked them away and got back to her examination of the desk that had been interrupted by the servant.

She had been told the object she sought might be hidden in the desk but she could not find anything like what Sir Roland had described. So, not in Lord Kessik's study and not in his exhibition hall. That left only one more place to search. His Lordship's bedchamber. 

* * *

"So now ye know somethin' of the tasks r'quired, yer wondering why ye?" Sir Roland did not wait for Daelynn's response, but quickly sipped his wine and continued. "When a student near the top of her class at the Her'ldry College starts slumming in Old Town, some people take notice. Especially when she shows some skill in the concealing arts. I heard about yer little adventure on behalf of Mistress Alline. She's a good friend of mine, so don't worry. Ye've talents girl. They can be developed. This opp'rtunity might let you see what ye could be."

Daelynn was silent for a full minute. Something unusual for her. Sir Roland let her be with her thoughts, focusing his attention on finishing his meal. The elf maiden was flattered that her skills had been noticed; alarmed that she had drawn the attention of an obviously talented thief; concerned that Mistress Alline had divulged her involvement with the Black-Scars; and excited to be presented such a challenge. What to do? She decided to follow her father's advice - when in doubt, stop thinking and act.

"I accept."

"Excellent! Then best we be off. Ye've work to do tonight. Finish up and I'll get the carr'ge. Front door as soon as yer done. Oh, yer toy is under yer plate."

Sir Roland stood, smiled, bowed slightly to his guest and left the dining room by the back way. Daelynn moved the plate and recovered her throwing star. It had been cleaned and sharpened. She quickly took a few more bites, finished her glass of wine, threw her wrap about her shoulders and was at the door before Sir Roland. He arrived several long breaths later dressed in a formal cloak and carrying a walking stick. He escorted her outside where just beyond the gate stood a brace of coal-black horses hitched to a small but fine looking coach. A short, toadish looking man dressed in the typical frock, cloak and cowl of a coachman sat atop. They had barely seated themselves when the coach lurched forward and took off into the darkening night.

"This'll be a test of yer abilities Daelynn. But know this. A mistake not only means ye fail but it could mean yer life. It's a real job we be doing t'night. Do ye know Lord Kessik? No? A v'ry wealthy man with an impressive collection of art, statu'ry, jewels 'n such. There's this piece about the size of yer dinn'r plate. Blue and gold. Been broke in ta two parts. Called a Trysech. Rumor says that for t'night one piece'll be in his house. But tis soon to be moved, so we only have this even'n to complete the job! Grab the piece and get out. It'll be in one of three places; his exhibition hall, his desk in his study, or his bedchamber. This should get you through any doors." He handed her a silver key. "If yer caught, well then tis all on you girl.

Daelynn slipped the key into a hidden pocket in her gown. "I am hardly dressed for a... smash and grab? Isn't that what it's called?"

"Na, it's not, and na you aren't" replied the man. "But we're dressed for the masked gala being held at his Lordship's this v'ry night. Ye'll need this."

Roland handed Daelynn an ornate ball mask. He helped settle it over her head, then donned a similar mask himself. Her mask fit snugly and was not likely to fall off or be easily dislodged. More importantly, she could see quite well through it.

The coach came to a stop and the door opened. She looked out on a sprawling lawn lit by torches. Graveled pathways, their crushed marble reflecting the torch light, meandered up to an imposing five story building. The mansion was magnificent. An equerry held out this hand to assist her in alighting from the coach. As they walked up the path Sir Roland gave her a few last whispered instructions.

"At these affairs, you're expected to circulate, gossip, dance, drink and be impressed by the hosts refined opulence. I am Master Berwick, of the Merchant Guild. You are Lady Smantha Draska of Eastern Province, related by marriage to the Baron of the Cliff's second cousin. All's good?" Gone were the lilting phrases of the far northwest, replaced by a flat southern accent.

Daelynn nodded quickly, her breathing becoming rapid and shallow. Sir Roland reached down and squeezed her hand. She nodded again, took a big breath and slowly let it out, then commanded her heart to climb out of her throat and get back down in to her chest.

"Good", the old thief said. 

* * *

The young elf extinguished the lamp, listened briefly at the study door, opened it and quietly stepped out into the hall. At the far end of the hallway stood the maid servant who had almost caught Daelynn sifting through her master's belongings. The woman was peering up the back stairway, one foot on the first step. She looked undecided as to how to proceed. Perhaps she was not permitted on the upper floor, but was curious? The maid was in her late twenties, with straight dirty blond hair and a thin, pale face. She was dressed in clothes appropriate to her station and duties. As with all Lord Kessik's staff this night she wore a smaller, plainer version of the gaudy masks the guests wore, and a dark brown, belted tabard. Daelynn remembered seeing her carrying wine glasses through the crowd in the exhibition hall. The woman had been as interested in the art collection as she was in carrying out her serving duties. The elf could not blame her. The exhibits were amazing to behold.

Daelynn straightened her gown and returned to the front of the house, stopping to look down the large open staircase that spiraled up from the main floor. The guests, all exquisitely dressed and masked for the night's festivities and most nearing inebriation, had tired of eating and dancing and were now spread throughout the lower two floors with several on the wide curved staircase beneath her.

At this rate, they'd be soon scattered throughout the house. She needed to get to the fourth-floor unseen and quickly! Daelynn turned back down the hall and walked swiftly to the rear of the mansion. The servant girl was nowhere to be seen. Unlike the grand staircase at the front of the house, the back stairs were constructed of wood, not marble. Stretched canvas covered each step and had been painted to resemble stone. The material slightly muffled her steps as she ascended.

The stairs opened onto a long hallway, well-lit by torches. About half way down the hall Daelynn saw the female servant kneeling in front of a closed door. She appeared to be wrestling with the latch. The elf stepped back onto the landing, retreating to the shadows. That damn woman was everywhere! And doing what, now? Polishing knobs? Daelynn peered out in to the hall again. The servant was gone. Gathering her dress in one hand and hiking it higher, Daelynn moved quickly down the hall counting doors as she passed them. Four. That should be Lord Kessik's bedchamber.

Daelynn adjusted her mask, looked up and down the hall, making sure it was empty. She pressed down on the latch and was mildly surprised that it engaged. The door was unlocked. Perhaps the servant had forgot to lock it? Not needing the silver key, she returned it to its pocket, checked the hallway one more time, then slipped into the room. She had just closed the door, her eyes not yet adjusted to the subdued light offered by a few lanterns and small fire in the grate, when the attack came.

The only warning had been the sound of a leather shoe scraping against the stone flooring. Hardly more than a soft 'ssstt', but enough for her sharp elven hearing to catch. There was no time to dodge aside. She presented her arms in a high cross block, hoping to intercept the blow she guessed was coming.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 – The Prize**

Luck favored her as her crossed arms blocked a downward strike. Daelynn pushed back, sliding her hands up the attacker's arms, grabbed a wrist and twisted, hard, turning the attacker away from her. Cold metal brushed her bare arm. A knife! She twisted harder, hoping to force the blade from her opponent's hand. The attacker gasped in pain, cursed and slammed an elbow into Daelynn, throwing her back against the bedroom door.

The elf was forced to relinquish her hold. She braced herself against the door and swept her foot out, attempting to push and trip up her foe. That had been her intent, but the attacker was quick, turning the fall in to a roll and coming up on their feet. The elf drew her dagger and a shuriken as her opponent turned to face her, blade held at mid-guard.

The servant's mask had fallen off and she stared with wild shining eyes at Daelynn; a cruel, crooked smile on her face. The knife in her hand was longer than Daelynn's small dagger and she held it with a confidence and ease that un-nerved the elf.

"You've messed with Guild business girl. Too bad for you", the 'servant' said. "You had the look of someone searching for something down there in the exhibit hall. And I saw you out in the hallway below, near the study too. Not sure where you got. Let me guess. The window ledge? Ha! I should have checked outside before l closed them shutters! And then I spied you at the end of this hallway. No guest uses the back stairs."

As she spoke the woman moved to Daelynn's left side, away from the elf's dagger hand. Daelynn watched her movements. Slow, steady, sure footed. Her knife never wavered. Did this woman want Daelynn dead for no more reason than they were out to steal the same item? She looked tough and sure of herself. Daelynn suspected that she'd not best her in a fair fight, but also doubted very much a guild thief would fight fairly. As Sir Roland had said, this was a real job and failure's price was high.

The 'servant' was waiting for Daelynn to make a misstep. The elf obliged. She made a lunge at the woman, but it was only a feint. The thief had been expecting that; she simply moved back a half step, drawing her own weapon back slightly. This presented Daelynn a slightly better target. Her shuriken flew out of her left hand straight and true into the female thief's side.

Throwing stars seldom caused serious harm – they were used mostly to distract or delay. The human was unsure of what had hit her or how badly she was injured; Daelynn took advantage of that confusion and struck again. Leaping forward, she blocked the woman's knife hand and brought the pommel of her dagger down on the woman's unprotected head. The thief had no chance to block with her left and arm as she had instinctively cradled her wounded side with that hand. Her rival was tough; Daelynn had to strike her again before she fell to the floor, unconscious.

The elf took a moment to catch her breath, straighten her gown and flick back a lock of dark hair that had fallen across her eyes. Now what to do? After pulling her shuriken from the thief's side she decided to leave her where she lay and set about searching for the Trysech.

Where does one hide a treasure? She stood in the center of the chamber by the bed and surveyed the room. A large wardrobe, some shelves holding neatly folded clothes, a small night desk in a corner, a large mirror on the far wall, and the very large canopied bed, were all that was in the room.

The small desk was tidy but a bit dusty. The ink bottle was dry and the quill beside it quite blunt, indicating that the desk was not much used. His lordship likely wrote in his study or dictated to a scribe, she thought.

She moved to the mirror. It was firmly mounted on the wall. She regarded her reflection; smoothing the gown, adjusting a seam, and tucking her hair back into place. It was then that she noticed the wardrobe reflected in the mirror.

The wardrobe was large with four tall narrow doors. One door was slightly ajar. Had the thief started her search of the room at the armoire? Or, had another servant or the lord himself left the door open? Daelynn crossed the room, laid a hand on the knob of the wardrobe door, ready to pull it wide open and look inside when a groan sounded from the thief on the floor. With consciousness returning the servant was moaning and trying to move. The elf turned away from the wardrobe and moved back to the thief. Stripping a sash from one of the curtains of a bed post, Daelynn tied the thief's hands and feet together and behind her. She used her knife to cut a strip of the lining from her damaged gown and used it to gag the woman. There was not much blood from the throwing star wound. Satisfied, Daelynn returned to her examination of the wardrobe.

The partly opened door just demanded to be peeked through. She put her hand on the small knob again and was about to open the door wider when a frantic, and muffled, sound issued from the thief's throat. Daelynn looked over at her. She was lying on her side, frantically struggling against her bonds. Her eyes were watching Daelynn intently. When she saw that the elf was looking at her she started to shake her head vigorously in negation.

Ha, thought Daelynn. Worried I'm going to take the Trysech and leave her to Lord Kessik! Daelynn smirked at the thief and returned to her task. The thief's frantic sounds doubled in intensity and she tried desperately to wriggle her body away from Daelynn and behind the bed. The elf recognized an honest distress. She walked over to the thief and knelt beside her. The woman's head shaking and moaning stopped. She almost looked relieved. Daelynn frowned and after a moment's hesitation, removed the gag from her mouth.

"What is your problem?" she unkindly asked of the bound woman.

Still partly dazed from the blow to her head the 'servant' managed to gasp out one word. "Trap!"

Daelynn harrumphed. Likely just a stalling tactic, she thought. But she did not open the armoire door. Instead, taking the small lantern from the bedside table she brought it close to the wardrobe and began an inspection of the partly open door. At the bottom of the door she saw a fine, dark wire running from the back of the door into the wardrobe interior. She found a similar wire attached to the top of the door. Both wires were pinned to the inside of the door. Using her dagger, she carefully unfastened the wires, then stepped to one side and pushed the door open several inches. The bound woman lay watching intently.

Daelynn tentatively peered around the door into the wardrobe. A black damask cloth was draped over something. Suspended above the cloth was a capped glass container slightly larger than her closed fist. It held a green smoking liquid. The two wires ran into the container. Opening the door by more than a few inches would have brought the wires within the glass vessel into contact with each other. She wondered what would happen then? The glass appeared to be thin and delicate.

The elf slowly reached in to the cupboard without jarring the wires or the glass container. She pulled the black cloth back to reveal a flat, semi-circular shaped piece of metal. It was made mostly of gold into which beautiful blue stones were set. The workmanship was exquisite. Her fingers traced swirled designs and letters etched in the gold. They were in a language she did not recognize. The object appeared old, possibly ancient.

The thief was now glaring at the elf maid. Daelynn smiled at her, wrapped the disc in the black cloth and slipped it beneath her gown. She partly closed the door to the wardrobe, reattached the wires and shut the door. She knelt again beside the thief, holding the woman's own knife up before her eyes.

"I cannot risk having you captured. They'd make you talk and tell of what you saw." The woman's eyes grew wide. "You warned me about the trap, although that was to save your own life as you feared it could kill us both. No matter."

The elf moved the knife down to the restraint joining the thief's bound feet and arms and cut part way through it.

"You should be able to work your way loose in a little while. And just in case you are faster than that, I will take your pretty knife. I have no wish to feel your blade between my ribs, should you catch up to me before I leave this place."

The female thief muttered something uncomplimentary. Daelynn smiled again, returning the gag to her mouth. She slipped her new knife into a leather strap she wore on her left leg, beneath the gown. One last quick check in the mirror and the elf moved to the door. Listening briefly at the door, and hearing nothing of concern, she then slipped into the hallway and made her way to the rear stairs.

Quickly making her way down two flights of stairs, she entered the exhibition hall and crossed to its far side. It was crowded and noisy. Perfect. She nodded to several masked guests, who nodded back to her, others lifted glasses in a salute or waved at her. Looking down the last set of stairs she espied Sir Roland standing near the cloak room in conversation with a tall, bearded, masked and elegantly dressed man of middle years.

About halfway down the grand staircase she felt the Trysech start to slip. Daelynn slowed her pace. That helped. She left the stairs and walked slowly towards Sir Roland. The damn object was heavy and not well secured beneath her gown. It started to move downwards again. Daelynn took a deep breath and pushed her stomach out, pressing the stolen object against the contours of her gown

"Ah, my dear there you are!" Sir Roland stated, speaking as Master Berwick. He indicated the man beside him. "Lady Smantha, may I present Lord Kessik our host for this evening's fine gala?"

"Lord Kessik?" Daelynn repeated in a soft eastern drawl. "I am so delighted to meet you!"

A curtsy would have been appropriate at this point but if she did that then the Trysech would crash to the floor. She decided to forgo the curtsy for a friendlier and more intimate gesture, drawing her arms in towards her side while still clutching milord's hand which was now mere inches away from the stolen treasure beneath her dress. She leaned forward; praises came gushing out.

"Beautiful. Amazing. Words cannot describe the delight my eyes have beheld in your halls."

Lord Kessik had been hearing such tributes all evening and was not yet tired of them. Smiling and nodding he remarked on a few of his favorite exhibits. Yes, she had seen that. And, yes, she had marveled at those. She had let go his hand but kept hers clasped in front of her. 'Master Berwick' interjected at one point, indicating a late arriving guest. Kessik, the dutiful host, excused himself and went to greet the late-comer himself.

Daelynn saw that her cape and his cloak were near, draped over a chair. "Master Berwick," she intoned, hardly moving her lips and speaking softly. "If you could don your cloak and help me with my cape? We must leave. Quickly."

The old thief, noting an urgency in her voice, asked no questions and obliged her request. In the moment required to settle their outer garments Daelynn adjusted the sliding treasure, making it more secure. Within a few minutes they were settled in their coach and off the grounds of the Kessik estate. A small lantern had been lit, providing both light and heat to the coach. It was pleasantly warm. Daelynn let out a long, slow breath.

"Ye look disheveled, yer gown is torn and ye're flushed. Were ye up to business or pleasure this evening?" joked the man.

"Any reason a girl can't have both?' she replied tartly, refusing to be intimidated or discomfited. She pulled the Trysech out from beneath her gown. "Sadly, purely business."

She handed him the prize. "There was someone else looking for this," she remarked.

"Oh? Do tell."

She related her confrontation with the human female thief, and her disarming of the trap. Roland was silent for a few minutes. Nodding to himself he pulled a small flask out of a pocket, opened it and took a quick nip. He placed it back without offering Daelynn any.

"The trap is more than I expect'd from Kessik. He usually depends on guards and locks. Oh, and dogs. Means he's nervous. I expect'd others to be intr'sted," he said. "But did na think they'd be in play so soon. It appears that the private and pers'nl details I p'rchased were also sold or passed ta odders. If the Guild's involved, best ta move quickly."

Using his walking stick the old gentleman tapped out a simple sequence on the coach roof. The driver made a sharp change to their direction of travel and increased speed. Sir Roland wrapped the Trysech in its soft, black cloth and placed it in a small, hide-away beneath his seat.

"Ye did well tonight Lady C'orillae. I recognize the woman, yer opponent, from yer descr'ption. She's a well-trained guild member. Not a Master Thief, but not street riff-raff like the Black-Scars either. She's a blood-thirsty bitch, and ye're right. She'd ha' killed ye just for being in her way."

Daelynn acknowledged Roland's compliment with a nod and a smile. She had done it! What an amazing feeling! The strain of the last few hours caught up to her. In the warmth of the coach her nervous tension faded and she dozed.

The coach came to an abrupt halt causing Daelynn to jerk awake. She opened the shutter and saw that she had been taken home. The fine misty rain had lifted. The skies were clearing and stars shone brightly. It must have been near midnight. She turned to the man.

"My apologies, Sir Roland. I did not mean to sleep."

"Na problem girl. Happens after a job. Ye passed the test. As I understand, ye take instruction at the College in mornings. So yer afternoons will now be put to a bett'r use than wandering markets and inconveniencing street gang toughs. Be at ma house after midday. Busy days ahead as yer trainin' starts tamarra."

Daelynn nodded to the man and stepped out of the coach. Opening the tall gate to her uncle's property she climbed the stone steps to the large wooden door where she waved a dismissal to Sir Roland's driver. The squat man touched his gloved hand to his cowled head, shook out the reins and guided the coach into the street. She watched until it disappeared down the road, then stepped into the house. Closing the door behind her she addressed the large mastiff standing guard in the entryway.

"Best dinner party ever, Big-Boy! I am off to bed. 'Busy days ahead as ma trainin' starts tamarra'", she said, addressing the dog using Sir Roland's lilting intonations.

The dog cocked its head at the strange speech coming from its mistress. The girl laughed, scratched the beast's ears, and started up the stairs to her bed.

End –


End file.
